Setting and Rising Sun
by Vox Pontifex Maximus
Summary: 100 theme challenge in the form of drabbles (subject to grow into oneshots later), given randomly. Love, loss, and life through the eyes of Okami characters. Rated M for safety, rating subject to change.
1. Blink

Blink

The sun goddess patiently watched over Shinshu field patiently, the darkness lightly gnawing on her exposed flesh, Issun slept next to her, the little man making small noises as he exhaled. Night was no ally to Amaterasu; she knew it with every fiber of her being. Ammy did not fear the dark, just what lurked within. The night lightly caressed her skin, beckoning her with temptations. The moon itself was gone, having waned itself into nothingness as it did once every month.

Amaterasu blinked.

The whispers of temptation – _just give in, give up, submit _– had vanished, replaced with a brilliant sliver of the sun on the horizon.


	2. Poison

2. Poison

Amaterasu clasped his hand in hers, golden eyes filled with sorrow and confusion as the blonde haired man continued to speak. "Ma cherie," Waka purred to her, an attempt at comfort in his voice. "I have seen the future. I'm afraid that we cannot—" He paused for a moment, the same pain in his eyes, lacking the confusion. This was a prophet who acted on his visions.

The goddess tore her hand away from her, fleeing the scene. The garden, which had once felt like home to her, tore at the flesh on her arms and feet, the plants seeming to attack the heavenly sun. Her eyes soon grew blurry, the tears streaming down her face. Every word Waka had said was poison – she would not, could not, go on without him. He was her inspiration, her light, and her love.

It hurt to breathe, even now as she sobbed beneath her favorite tree, where his words and the air felt as though they were tearing her body and mind to shreds.


	3. Submission

3. Submission

Golden eyes stayed wide as they watched the lifeless body of one of the last Celestial beings to depart, flying off the edge of the platform. The goddess turned to Yami, a shudder travelling up her spine, making the fur on her hackles rise, in fear and anger. She was weak, an ordinary wolf, and knew it. Her only hope had just been smashed into oblivion.

"Come now, little sister," the voice resonated, a stone hand reaching out to touch her fur, no sign of aggression. "It will be quick, I promise you. You are weak, and I am powerful." The voice was as deep as the darkest abyss, filling her mind with the void that Yami stood for.

For a moment, the wolf's form shimmered, and in her place was a young maiden, the same markings, the golden aura faint around her silhouette.

Her eyes closed, body bowing to the Lord of Darkness, succumbing to the darkness that had called to her, the roar of defeat blaring through her soul.


	4. Friendship

AN: More of a oneshot than a drabble. Thanks for the reviews! 3

4. Friendship

The forest was bathed in a beautiful white light, the sun reflecting off the purest of snow. White paws, equally as pure in color, padded over the surface of the snow, not sinking into it. Yoshpet, for all of its danger, seemed to be in a peaceful winter slumber. Perhaps it was her own inner godhood that calmed this place of danger, quelling the dangerous pollen spores.

At last the pair reached their destination, the mallet bouncing outside the old tree stump as it had been for the past 100 years or so, waiting for the goddess to return, to bring friends. The sensation of being shrunk was not unlike sleeping, but one was aware of the waking world. Amaterasu was flung inside the stump, into Ponc'tan, delving into the Poncle city. The path she had trodden was a familiar one in this waking world; to the chief's house she went, her seventh Celestial Envoy. She nosed her way inside, the leaves parting for her naturally the Poncles guarding the entrance silent in reverence.

The female let out a small bark, a sound of joy and longing. It did not last long. The wolf nuzzled into the green Poncle, letting out a sad little huff as she did so. His breathing was irregular, labored, and his eyes closed in concentration. "Get outta here, furball," came the coughing response. "You smell like dog breath."

The paintbrush tail wagged furiously, and for a few moments she could pretend everything would be alright, that the Poncle was not slipping from the world of the living slowly, painfully. Her head rested on his abdomen, his small hand reaching t pet her head, the scarlet markings more evident and intricate than ever before. Issun had served the gods well.

For how long they stayed like that, the goddess knew not. It could have been days or weeks; the world went on around the two. Having remained motionless all this time, the female suddenly stood, her nose pressing to Issun's, suddenly, frantically. A slow whine emitted from her, low and agonizing. She nuzzled the cold flesh of his face, his hands, the whining growing louder all the more. Desperately, the goddess painted the bloom technique, the celestial ink staying for a moments too long.

The brave Poncle rose, although it was a transparent form of himself, his aura one of dazzling brightness. His body lay there, cold and lifeless. The female wolf nuzzled the male, his hands the proper size for the goddess to be pet. "Alright, Ammy. I'm not tired anymore, furball. Let's go."

His hand on her back, the two friends walked out of the hut.


	5. Unbreakable

5. Unbreakable

The furry demon waited patiently in his castle. He was silent, the many tails of his swishing patiently behind him. The day would come when the goddess who had sealed him away eons ago would show up at his doorstep. And still, the kitsune-demon waited.

He had been sealed away for so long, it felt good to stretch his paws, to curl his many tails. His waiting had finally paid off, though. The Moon Tribe, along with the sun-goddess, had sealed him away in the arc. He had been freed when he attacked the Celestials, and had wreaked havoc on the mortal realm, along with his breathren and master. Soon, the goddess who had defeated Orochi would come howling at his doorstep. Soon, she would walk onto the deck and draw the constellation that would summon him. Soon, Amaterasu would face the demon-god whose strength was nine times of hers.

The resolve to destroy her was woven through every fiber of his unholy being. His vulpine eyes narrowed dangerously. The howl from the goddess pierced the realm, and Ninetails rose, back arching in a stretch, anticipating the victory that would soon be his.


	6. Obsession

6. Obsession

The man-beast stalked around in the snow, hunting for demon scrolls to slay. There were so many, so many bloodthirsty demons waiting to be slayed, waiting to prey upon his people. The sword glinted silver in the brief moment of moonlight that showed through the eternal clouds in the north.

Monster after monster, Oki attacked them with fervor, with zeal. His strokes of the sword were dangerous and decisive, a force driving him like no other. He would see his people safe. He had to. There was no other option. Failure was not even in the equation. His people needed him. They needed the sword to glow silver. And the demons he slayed would become the life force of his people.

Days, weeks later, the great warrior continued to slay demons. His passion remained the same, his resolve growing stronger by the day. Doubts surfaced at times, when he was alone, the sentinel guarding Wep'keeper. He needed to continue. His people needed this sword, the protection, the hope.

The warrior pressed on. There were always more demon scrolls, and Kutone called for blood.


	7. Eternity

7. Eternity

"Hey! Furball!"

The white wolf lifted her head from her outstretched paws, yawning. Her Celestial Envoys were all sitting around in the short grass, eating some bits of fruit. The Brush Gods danced around, all in their elements, although Kabegami was infuriating Tachigami to no end. It was with some concentration the goddess ignored them. A small sound escaped her, and then she was tackled to the ground. No one with malice or spite was allowed in the Celestial Garden, home to those Amaterasu favored in her mortal lives.

She twisted and tried to get a hold of whoever was on top of her. It was small, a human, and a dog accompanied the boy. She let out a yip of delight, finally pinning Kokari to the ground. He was new to the afterlife, and had finally found her in the massive expanse of paradise. The wolf nuzzled into Kokari, tail wagging as though it had intentions for liftoff.

The goddess let out another happy sound, a higher pitched whine that was nothing but the epitome of excitement. She rolled over on her back, eyes closing as she felt a hand rub the soft fur there. When her golden eyes opened, it was her favorite of the moon tribe, and she then made to pounce on him, too.

When the day called for an end on the Celestial Plain, Ammy, curled up with her dearest of mortals, snuggled into a large ball of delight, mused that it would be a good way to spend the rest of her eternity with these souls.


	8. Soft

8. Soft

The little white mouse scurried along the cream colored marble. Compared to the brush gods, anything white appeared to be less than that. The male mouse made a small squeaky sound, continuing along the line until he reached a corner.

A pause in his movement - it the coast was clear.

The mouse darted out into the open, intent on making it to the other side of the garden. His world was turned upside down when the female cat dropped down on him, scooping up the god into her pristinely white paws. The squeaks, which were originally curious, amused, and delighted, turned into those of anger. The gods would never seriously harm one another; the fact that Kabegami went out of her way to irritate and harass him only annoyed the mouse further.

The torture went on for a long time, until Kabegami decided there was nothing more to playing with Tachigami.

That night, curled against the warm fur of the cat brush god, Tachigami couldn't think of any fur, of any creature that had ever walked in any realm, that was softer than Kabegami's. He curled against his sister tighter, nuzzling into her more, and in turn, the wall goddess curled around him more.


	9. Death

9. Death

Gods do not die when they are defeated in battle; their spirits endure, prevailing as the mortals believe in them, and disappear only when no one needs them, no one believes in their strength, when no one wants them, when no one prays. The closest to a true death a god could feel would be banishment, when the spirit was sealed in a place so dark and separate that it would take more than eons to reform, and even then, that was only performed by the strongest of deities.

Tonight, the mortal body the sun goddess occupied had failed her. The natural cycle of balance had not been on her side today. Darkness, no matter how brilliant the light, would always rise up. That was the natural order, and today, darkness won. Her clothes were dirtied and bloody in multiple places. Her abdomen had been slashed at and bitten so many times during the battle it was impossible to identify one fatal wound.

Amaterasu opened her lips to breathe, to gasp for air, and instead found the bright blood slowly leak from her lips. This body was dying, and Amaterasu was with it until she could regenerate again, to fight this evil again. Today, she could not save her people. Tomorrow could be too late.

Yami be damned, she needed to protect Nippon.

The sun goddess let out a heavy sigh, the blood now a steady stream from the corners of her lips on both sides. The femme let out a little noise, hands clasping the rosary beads that had served her for so well, before going slack.


	10. Without

10. Without

His feet kicked up dirt as he walked, the drier parts of he forest obliging the young male. His feet were dirty and sore, and his spirits were down, evident by the slump in his shoulders, the depressed huff of breath that left his lips, and his downward-set dark eyes. He gripped the old fishing pole tighter, letting out a small sad sound. It wasn't quite a whine, but close.

He didn't know what he would do without his best friend. It was so oddly disconcerting to be without his pet, even now. And that was because he had run away, had left his friend to fend for himself. Gods, he hoped the dog was okay. He wished he could get back in, but.. Even then, Kokari was unsure if he would venture into the ruins to begin with. He stopped scuffing at the ground and walked toward the water. It was hopeless, sometimes, being where the water reflected no light. He felt as though one day he would fall into that void and that would be the end of him. The young man sighed, sitting down next to the water.

He would think about mustering up his courage. Ume needed him. For all he knew, his friend was dead. If Ume were here, he'd know what to do. Kokari shuddered. No way could he return to the ruins, where the crazy voice called to him, laughing at him and his dog, and chased him all the way out. It was odd to be without Ume. Kokari needed his friend now more than ever.


	11. Inspiration

AN: Thank you so much for the review and the views. Keep them coming! (They make me feel good)!

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11. Inspiration

The princess walked quietly to the shrine, her muscle memory carrying her body there out of habit. Fuse had been visiting the shrine since she could walk and had always connected to the spirits. Two of her eight companions went with her, the others milling around the village or in the pass. Years later, as a young adult, she felt even more compelled to speak with the souls of the deceased and the gods.

She rounded the corner to the shrine, and was promptly greeted by another one of the canine warriors. Her laughter was cut off when his tongue swept across her face and she was tackled to the ground. Her husband had helped to raise the dogs from pups. Three of her companions and fellow guardians of the shrine were on top of her, tails wagging, a rare moment of playful carelessness. When Fuse was breathless the dogs finally let up, and they were back on guard, that constant awareness that meant to be a guardian.

As Fuse picked herself up from the ground, she dusted off her robes, making sure she had not gotten them too dirtied. The young priestess looked down the path and found the love of her life heading down toward her. The young woman did not attempt to contain herself, and instead threw herself at Yatsu, arms wrapping around him. "Fuse-hime," he breathed, hugging her tighter, to his chest, arms wrapping around his wife protectively. The blind man nuzzled into her soft hair, keeping his lovely wife in his grasp for as long as he could before he released the woman.

Fuse took his hand and the two of them continued to the shrine. On the awful days, when the demons threatened the safety of the village, which tended to be more often than not, Fuse only had to look at her husband. She could feel him and kiss him, and that was enough to sustain her.


	12. Dead Wrong

12. Dead Wrong

The battle was fierce, having been raging for almost a entire day. The snarls of the she-wolf and the mocking sounds of the Ruler of Darkness clashed constantly. Once Amaterasu gained the upper hand, it was lost to Yami, and the vice versa. It was a constant cycle. The goddess was weak, exhausted and trembling even as she attacked with her brush, rosaries, reflectors, and glaives. Every cell in her body ached, screeching in pain every time she moved to counter-attack or dodge the golem hand that chased her.

Yami thought he was going to wear the she-wolf down.

Yami thought he would slay Amaterasu in battle.

Yami thought he would rule over the different realms of this world.

Ammy had no intentions of letting the golem hand smash her into dust. She attacked, the solar-powered reflector ripping past the outstretched fingers, through the glass of the orb, and into the little fish that was the core of all evil.


	13. Running Away

13. Running Away

The young Poncle bounced through the dangerous wood of Yoshpet, angrily clutching the scrolls he had taken from his grandfather's hut. His face was flushed a nervous red color, for his flight from home incriminated the artist. Issun knew the forest like the back of his hand, avoiding the angry trees and the fruit of their malice. He bopped around, angry and hurt as he ran from his grandfather, from the expectations.

Issun would be an artist. He already was. That drawing of the wood sprite would gain him fame. People across Nippon would know him as Issun, the Wandering Artist!


	14. Judgement

14. Judgement

The caravan of bandits, allied with different demon imps, were not expecting the goddess to drop down on them. She was a mess, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, the white strands tainted with blood. The glaive seamlessly cut through the imps before turning to the humans. The victims of the bandits were clean in her eyes, nothing too serious to stir her inner anger. But her golden eyes turned to the traitorous humans. She snarled, attacking them with a deathly precision.

"Unclean!" Amaterasu screeched, hand punching through one man's chest and shredding his heart with claws. She turned to the next man, a whirlwind of teeth, claws, blood, and anger. "Unclean!" Each bandit had judgement passed, and the goddess could not stop herself. It was a bloodbath. By the time she had finished the last of them, the families she had saved stayed cowering. Thy sat in a stunned silence, and she left, disappearing as quickly as she had come.


	15. Joy

15. Joy

The queen of the Dragonians sat on her throne, waiting for her visitors. These past few days had been long, filled with sorrow, relief, and some form of contentment. Her people were safe, and Mother to All had been helped in her quest. Ninetails had been defeated. Her glorious and loving husband Wada was dead. And yet.. There was always hope. Hope for a better tomorrow than today.

She did not know what to do. Otohime desired no other consort, as there would be no love greater than her love for her husband. At the end of the day the royal female returned to her chambers. As she was changing for bed, the queen paused to admire her form in the underwater mirror. She let her hands trail from her breasts to her hips, over the stomach that now had a slight bulge.

A buuge?!

Otohime ran her hands over the offending part of her body again and again, feeling the new shape of herself. What was this? She had not put on weight, not at all. Dragonians were not the same as humans in that regard. She frowned lightly, studying her new form in the mirror. The woman couldn't fathom what it could be. It wasn't as though she could be.. was she..?

And before her brain could come across the word 'pregnant', the queen fell to the floor, her tail flying out behind her, sobbing as she collapsed. The tears would not be seen underwater, but it didn't matter. She was with child. Her husband's spirit could live on. The queen was with child, she would have a son or daughter, and they would rule the kingdom his or her parents had ruled and protected. She smiled, the pure elation of new life lifting her downtrodden spirits. Otohime couldn't stop smiling, so when one of her chambermaids entered the woman turned, rising, hugging the young female fiercely, tightly, too excited and overwhelmed with emotions to speak for the time being.

Life was hope. Carrying a child gave the queen a new hope, a new reason for living besides her duty to her people.


End file.
